The Fight
by dmsfanman
Summary: Tom has come to Raft to visit Daria. What Tom thought was going to be a simple conversation on the walk to dinner turns into a major fight.


_Readers:_ _This story was inspired by a piece of fanart by Princess_Pasta, which shows Daria and Tom together. You can see it in full size on thepaperpusher website (net not com) under Board Index – Right Brain – The Easel – Pasta's Art Thread. It is on page 12 about 1/3 of the way down the page._

 _The setting for this short story is a few weeks following my last short story "The Kiss," which was also inspired by one of Princess_Pasta's art pieces. Both are set in the post-canon universe of my first book Daria in the Ring as well as my second book Daria on the Sideline. All of my stories are available on fanfiction._

 **The Fight**

It was late afternoon on a mild spring day in Boston with the sun shining occasionally, but mostly spending its time behind the clouds. Tom and Daria walked next to each other through the Raft Quadrangle. Today was the first time the weather was warm enough to walk outside with just t-shirts and no sweaters or jackets. They were on their way to dinner and Daria had suggested her favorite – pizza. The various "student dive" pizza places were on the opposite side of campus from her apartment.

Tom had come up from Bromwell in Newtowne to spend the weekend with Daria. Even after ten months he was still elated that she had agreed to get back together last summer. Now Daria was just two weeks from final exams and graduation. He had three, since Bromwell finished a week later than Raft. He was trying to engage Daria in a conversation about their future after graduation.

Daria stopped short. Placing her hands on her hips and with the most acidic tone in her voice she said, "What? I would think after we have known each other this long you would actually get me. I guess I was wrong. What's the matter with you? Don't you understand?"

Tom stopped just a step in front of Daria. "Okay?" He said. He had to crane his neck to look at her. From what he could see she had her 'face of total anger' on. Her face was totally neutral, except that her eyebrows were so extremely pointed toward the center of her nose that the top of her nose wrinkled. He knew Daria well enough that with that face and tone of voice not only was his goose cooked, but it was sliced, served, and the leftover bones had already been thrown in the trash! Tom pivoted on his left foot and looked down at her. With her gorgeous auburn hair and expression on her face Tom thought she was beautiful even when she was obviously angry.

Looking Tom in the eye Daria continued, "I have put in four years of hard work earning my degree and this is what you suggest? I guess that is how privilege makes you feel so entitled to everything. I ought to slap some sense into you! Oooh!"

Tom realized he could lose himself in those big beautiful brown eyes. Even so he threw up his hands and said pointedly, "But I thought…"

Daria cut him off and said, "Well you thought wrong." Then she pushed past Tom and stomped off.

Tom just stood there and watched her go. That little exchange had left a knot in his stomach. He did not like it one bit that Daria was mad at him. He loved her and wanted nothing else but to make her life easier and better. He felt his own anger grow. Rejecting his idea wasn't the part that really bothered him. It was that she felt the need to bring up the whole 'privilege' thing again. He thought they were past that. So what if he came from a family that in Lawndale was considered "old money?" She knew darn well that he had rejected the life of just living off of his family's money. He was earning a degree in a challenging program with good job prospects after graduation. He planned to make it on his own. Ugh! It wasn't like she came from abject poverty. Her mother was a successful lawyer and her father was a marketing consultant. She came from a very respectable and prosperous upper middle class family.

Tom stood there and tried to calm himself using the rational part of his mind. That part of his mind reminded him that having Daria as his girlfriend was a bit like fishing at the Cove – the Sloane family's private getaway. Sometimes you got one that was a fighter. In that case you gave it some line and let it tire itself out before reeling it in. That required patience and technique. It also required time. One thing that Tom had known since first dating Daria back in high school was that patience and time were essential. This was hardly the first fight they had ever had and certainly would not be the last.

Daria walked in to The Magic Eggplant, her favorite pizzeria, and went up to the counter. She ordered a small mushroom and pepper pizza – with extra garlic! That'll serve him right. She pulled a soda out of the cooler, paid the bill, took her number, and sat down in a booth to wait for her pizza to be served. Sitting there she saw Tom walk by the window. It would take him a while to find her. There were half a dozen pizza places within two blocks of the campus. The half-life of the places was about nine months. This one, however, had been around since before Daria was a freshman. It felt good to sit and take in the smells of the pizza. Daria pulled out her phone and called Jane, her best friend for the past 7 years – ever since she moved from Highland to Lawndale. Jane was studying at Boston Fine Arts College.

"Hey girlfriend," Jane answered. "What's up?"

"Well, you know that Tom came up this weekend," Daria said with her characteristic lack of inflection.

"Sure. What happened? Did the cheap Raft bed collapse under you two? I know somebody who could repair it so you won't get charged when you move out," Jane said with chuckle.

"Ha Ha. No, the bed didn't collapse," Daria said with irritation clearly in her voice.

"So why are you calling me when you have Tom around?" Jane asked. "You two seem to be surgically attached to one another."

Daria virtually spat the words, "I'm calling because he is insensitive, entitled, and seems to think that I belong to him."

There was a short pause and then Jane said quietly, "So you two had a fight."

Daria responded, "Darn right. God, he can be such a jerk."

"Wow, it is not often I have seen my highly rational friend quite so totally emotional," Jane said calmly.

Daria shot back, "I am not emotional. I'm angry. There's a difference."

Jane responded, "Yes there is. I know you well enough that I can tell the difference. You are masking your emotions with anger. The sooner you realize that the sooner you will be able to deal with whatever set you off. But rest assured that your reaction is emotion not anger."

"Thanks Jane," Daria said. "I'll talk to you later." Daria ended the call. She was really irritated that Jane was so quick to judgment. She hadn't even told her what the argument was about!

As Daria ended the call with Jane the guy from behind the counter brought her pizza to the table. She tore off a piece and shoved it into her mouth as if she was angry with it. The slice was very hot, but had at least cooled enough not to turn her mouth into a pocket of seared flesh. What should she do? Daria decided to call her Aunt Amy.

"Hi Daria," Amy said.

Daria said, "Hi Aunt Amy. I need to talk to you." She went on to tell Amy about the fight and her call to Jane.

Amy listened patiently to Daria. When Daria came up for air she said, "Daria, you need to listen to yourself. Your reaction isn't anger. It is fear. What are you afraid of?"

"You mean besides graduating from Raft with a degree in English and then going home to live in my parents' basement and maybe taking up cat hoarding as a hobby? Maybe I can be penniless like Jane's brother Trent. Maybe my writing can be as mediocre as his music and I can just hope my parents leave me enough when they die that I don't starve. Better yet, maybe with my winning personality I can make a career of asking people 'Would you like fries with that?' I think that I have plenty to fear. Compare that to Mr. Accountant who can find a job anywhere with or without his daddy's help."

"OK," Amy said. "Let me get this straight. You fear your post-graduation future. You are jealous that your boyfriend chose to study in a field with strong job prospects, whereas your chosen field poses many challenges to finding a job. Oh, and you are masking your fear and jealousy with a veneer of feigned anger at something he asked you."

Daria retorted in total deadpan, "You make it sound like such a bad thing."

Amy calmly replied, "That is because it is, Daria. I know how you feel about Tom. You have told me about the feelings you have and you have shown those feelings in your actions. Even if you have not fully admitted it to yourself, the fact is that you love Tom. We both know that he is very much in love with you and has been for years. The man has the patience of Job. I don't often give advice, especially to you. But I do have some this time. Don't screw this up. You don't have to do everything he asks. You don't have to agree with him all the time. But you do need to be respectful or at least civil when you disagree. Besides, you don't have to have a knock down drag out fight to enjoy making up!"

Daria saw Tom coming in the door of the restaurant. She whispered to Aunt Amy, "He's here. I've got to go." Then she ended the call.

Tom looked around the restaurant. Finally he spotted Daria sitting in a booth at the back. He chose not to go rushing over to her. First he went over to the counter and ordered a drink and a large slice of pizza from one of the already made pies in the case. He took his drink and plate over to the booth where Daria was sitting.

"May I join you," Tom asked.

Daria coolly replied to him, "Of course you can Tom. I'm mad at you. It's not like I hate you."

Tom sat down and arranged his food and drink in front of him. He didn't hurry. Tom did notice that half of Daria's small pizza was already gone. At last he took a deep breath and looked at Daria. It first struck him again how much he loved her long auburn hair framing her face and falling onto her shoulders. Her nose was beautiful as well. It didn't matter to him that she didn't wear makeup. She didn't need it. Then he stared directly into her deep brown eyes. After a long moment he said, "Daria, I am sorry I angered you. I didn't think that suggesting that we go to New York and move in together after graduation would make you angry. If you are not ready for that, then I understand. I am happy to wait."

Holding Tom's gaze Daria stretched out her right hand on the table. Tom took it and held it. Quietly, in fact almost in a whisper, Daria mumbled, "I'm sorry Tom. I'm sorry I bit your head off. I love you."

Hearing those words really made Tom feel better. Daria was not much of one for apologies. He continued holding Daria's hand and intentionally made no comment. He would hear everything she had to say.

Daria looked down at the table and continued at a more normal volume in her characteristic deadpan, "But you need to understand that I need to prove to myself that I can make it on my own. That means having my own place and my own job. For all I know it will be some horrid three floor walk-up above a Chinese restaurant. But I need to know that I can do it myself. This doesn't mean that I want to see you any less nor does it mean that I don't like being with you. The day may come when we do move in together. But that day is not now." Daria looked up and met Tom's eyes. She pleaded, "Can you understand me? Please?"

Tom now held Daria's hand with both of his. He responded to her, "I understand. Even if I didn't understand I respect you enough and care for you enough that I will go along with your wishes. This is not a make or break thing for our relationship. When I am with you my world is right. I simply wanted for my world – indeed our world – to be right all the time. If that is selfish, then forgive me. We will move forward together the way you want."

"Thank you Tom," Daria replied. "Please forgive me for saying some really mean things as well."

"Of course, I will always forgive you my love," Tom responded. Then he leaned across the table and gave Daria a big kiss.

"Here," she said handing him a slice of her mushroom and pepper pizza with extra garlic. "You should eat this for your own protection. Besides, now that we are done fighting we still need to go back to my place and make up."

Tom smiled and ate the pizza Daria offered to him. They both relaxed and he continued to smile at her as they talked. She even gave him a half-smile back. It would be a good evening after all.

 _Usual disclaimer: Daria is the property of MTV and is used here without permission. This story is a work of fan fiction and is purely for the enjoyment of the author and those who choose to read it. No income is to be derived from it._


End file.
